


Dance Away

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-05
Updated: 2006-03-05
Packaged: 2018-08-16 00:39:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8080045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: "It's okay. We'll be okay. You deserve to rest now. You deserve to see him again." (02/01/2003)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Deathfic, future fic, 5 Kleenex alert! I'm sorry, but I couldn't help it! If it makes anyone feel better (or warns anyone off), I cried writing this.  


* * *

"Papa Trip?"

Trip Tucker cracked an eyelid at the young voice, and glanced up to see his youngest great-granddaughter standing to the side of his rocking chair. "Yeah, Mel?"

Melissa glanced around, eyes lightly briefly on the other, empty chair before perching instead on the porch railing. Trip's lips quirked slightly at the gesture. Even after all this time, his family and visitors were careful not to sit in Malcolm's chair. The familiar flutter of grief inside made his eye slide shut again. _So long, so long..._

One hundred and seventeen years. 1-1-7. Trip couldn't believe he was so old. He had outlived almost everyone he knew...everyone from Enterprise, even T'Pol, all gone. Both of his daughters and one granddaughter had failed to outlive him. So many years gone by...and so many of them without the love of his life. Malcolm Reed had died twenty-seven years ago, taking a large part of Trip with him. Two- and-a-half decades without his husband had worn on Trip, yet some cosmic power refused to let him go.

Trip loved his family, his gaggle of grandchildren and great- grandchildren, including this well-meaning nag of a doctor who had moved in with him two years ago to look after him. He wouldn't have traded watching his family grow for anything...except for one more day with Malcolm.

He shook his head gently, trying to shake such silly, maudlin thoughts away, and opened both eyes this time. "You got that look." Melissa had a look, an odd squint, when she wanted to ask something but was afraid of the other person's reaction. "Don't worry, I'm too old to do much more than snort at ya."

The tall blond woman finally smiled and nodded. "All right." She shifted once, then finally blurted, "Do you ever regret marrying him?"

Trip tilted his head. "What would make ya think that?"

She shifted again and bit at her lip before answering. "You miss him so much, and it hurts to see you hurting like that."

"Didn't think I was that obvious."

Melissa was the first to snort. "Kind of hard to hide from me, you know."

With a long suffering sigh, Trip nodded. "No kiddin'." Slowly, imagining he could hear his ancient bones creak, he leaned forward in his chair. "To answer ya, no, I don't regret it. I had fifty-three wonderful years with a wonderful man. You never knew Malcolm, and I regret that. But I couldn't ever regret the time we had, or the family we had. Raised some fine people, and I know he's proud of every one of ya, just like I am."

She dropped her eyes. "If..." Her voice trailed off again, the odd squint reappearing.

"Okay, out with it." Trip ordered in the strongest voice he could muster.

Squaring her shoulders in a movement that reminded him of Malcolm, she said, "If it hadn't been for us," her hand gesture encompassed the entire family, "would you have...you know...followed him?"

Trip resisted the impulse to arch a white eyebrow. "Died, ya mean? I don't know. I never thought of it like that. I ain't gonna lie and say that I never wanted to, but it looks like the universe had other plans for me. And who am I ta argue with the universe?"

"If anyone could..." Melissa had met his eyes again, and he could something lurking in the dark depths, some awful certainty.

"Mel, you okay?"

"It's okay. We'll be okay. You deserve rest now. You deserve to see him again." Melissa's eyes were sparkling with unshed tears as she slid off of the railing.

Surprise laced Trip's voice. "You givin' me permission to die?"

She shook her head wordlessly as she dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms carefully around him. "I love you, Papa Trip. We all do. We love you so much."

Trip hugged back as hard as he could, which wasn't very these days. "I love you, Mel, I love you all."

"We know." She pulled away and looked at him as she quickly swept away several tears from her face. "We know."

Standing up, Melissa threw a glance out to the ocean, which was peacefully rolling along, water striking the sand and drawing a little bit back with it every time. She nodded, almost to herself, then turned her full attention back to Trip. "Okay, I need to go into town for a few things...okay?"

Still confused at her odd behavior, he replied, "Of course. See you when you get back."

She smiled. "Sure thing." She then leaned back and dropped a kiss on his cheek. "Goodbye."

"Bye."

As Trip watched her leave, he wondered if she knew. Probably, since she was right; he couldn't hide anything from her anymore. The fadeouts, the numbness, all the signs of a tired body finally shutting down for good. He felt calm, strangely not looking forward or back, merely waiting...waiting...

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. _Malcolm..._

* * *

"Hello, Trip."

Trip's eyes flew open at the familiar voice. The voice he had missed for countless years. "Mal!" Leaping forward with all of his youthful strength, he wrapped himself around the shorter dark-haired man, who responded just as strongly. Trip buried his face in the soft hair, feeling the long lonely years crumble and fall away. It didn't matter anymore, and never would again, because he was back in his husband's arms. "I missed you darlin'."

"I know." Trip felt Malcolm's lips move against his own neck, and he shifted enough to capture those lips with his own, and everything snapped back into place. Everything was right again.

After several long breathless moments, Trip pulled back to drink in the vision before him, taking in the beautiful gray eyes, the sculptured cheekbones, the proud jaw, and everything else that made up Malcolm.

Malcolm looked up at him, apparently doing exactly the same. "I missed you too." A smile played across his features as he added, "The Captain and the others wanted to come and greet you as well, but I told him them could wait. After all, we have plenty of time."

Starting slightly, Trip felt his eyebrows, once again dark blond, go up. "You still call Jon 'Captain?'"

Malcolm nodded. "And don't think that hasn't caused him plenty of consternation." The smile faded into a more serious look. "I'm glad you stayed with our family so long. You were right; I am very proud of all of them. But now I'm glad you're here."

Touching a hand to that beloved face, Trip nodded. "Me too."

Suddenly, a faint familiar tune reached Trip's ears, and he immediately recognized the music, the tune they had heard on Risa long ago and that had been in their special box. He aimed a questioning look at Malcolm, who nodded. "Dance away with me, love?"

Trip grinned. "Lead on, darlin'."

* * *

Melissa slowly picked her way down the sloping beachside hill, walking away from the final resting place of her great-grandfather's body. Other relatives lurked about, but Melissa was sure she was the only one who saw the two faint shapes whirling away across the sand.

And she was the only one who heard two voices, one Southern, one British, singing:

"A la la la la la la la la-la-la..."


End file.
